The Visit

As a child, hospital visits were something I always dreaded. The peculiar smell that was strong enough to induce a dreadful nausea the second you set foot on the compound, the building that looked straight out of a horror movie, the nurses with their marked indifference to whatever the hell your sickness may be, the doctors with their mostly inapproachable attitudes, the patients who seemed all packed and prepared for the ‘final journey’. All this mixed with the deplorable canteen food made it a top contender for my personal ‘Top 5 Places to Avoid’ list. The next close competitor was Raji Aunty’s house but let’s save that story for later.

So coming back to hospitals, this visit however, was special. Vasu Uncle who we all fondly called ‘Vasu Mama’ was not the average patient. Doctors called it ‘Nerve Degenerating Disorder’ which meant within a span of a couple of years, Vasu Mama had gone from being a highly paid official in a Corporate Giant to being affected by partial paralysis which soon resulted in complete loss of movement. His declining health brought with it, both shock and despair to my family. After all, most of Vasu Mama’s nieces and nephews owed their degrees and good lives to him. That such a situation would befall Vasu Mama was unacceptable.

I adored him for his simplicity and the love with which he would engage me in deep conversations which mostly revolved around my silly and imaginary theories. He would encourage my childish ways of making sure he and aunty never felt bored whenever they visited home. Add to that all the lovely gifts he brought and the good food we got to eat when he was home. This man, was truly a Rockstar!!

And today, we were to meet this rockstar. Until then, we had only heard about his condition and so today we didn’t know what to expect. In any case, I wanted to give him a little something he didn’t expect too. For lack of other ideas and resources, I finally decided to make Vasu Mama a flower bouquet. Yes, I had inherited my ammama’s creative genes and I was going to make him a wonderful bouquet. He would keep it by the side of his bed in a pretty vase and would show it off to all the nurses, doctors, cleaners and visitor. The gardens in Kerala have a generous bounty of indigenous flowers and leaves and off I rushed, to make my first bouquet ever.

I plucked, organized, arranged, plucked some more, rearranged, added some highlights, made some cuts, tied a ribbon and it was good to go!!! I gave it a good look. The red flower in the center was the obvious attraction but in general, this bouquets was for keeps. I couldn’t wait to give it to Vasu Mama. The details of his condition escaped me. To me he was now a tired man whose pain I was going to alleviate with my beautiful bouquet. Soon we got ready and left for the hospital. None of the smell, environment or attitude mattered any more. I was here to meet Vasu Mama and as I marched to his room, holding my bouquet on one hand and my mother’s dupatta on the other, I smiled thinking of my little surprise.

What we had heard was only a fraction of his actual condition but what he lost in physical energy, he made up in his sparkling eyes and heart warming smile. He could talk but in a feeble voice with which he lovingly enquired about all of us. Amma and Ammama were strong enough not to break down seeing Vasu Mama in his current state. As for me, my world had sunk. Two reasons - the usually cheerful and animated Vasu Mama in bed itself was disheartening. To worsen things, there was a huge bouquet on his side table, so colourful it could brighten anyone’s day. Rows of chrysanthemums, asters and roses neatly arranged to perfection in a lovely woven basket. I thought about my bouquet, which I now held behind me deftly hidden from Vasu Mama.

How could I give him this shoddy gift. I didn’t even know the names of the flowers in my bouquet. Hell, I even forgot the ‘With Loads of Love’ card!!! Just as I quietly decided to discard it as soon as we left the room, Amma turned to me and asked, ‘Are you not giving it to him?’. How could she even mention it now. Had she not noticed the table? Annoyed, I slowly whispered to her saying I couldn’t give him such a shabby gift while there was an exquisite bouquet waiting to greet everyone. Vasu Mama was now curious. ‘What did you bring me?’, he asked me with a smile. I could only manage a nod while, much to my embarrassment, Amma narrated all my morning tamasha and my current feeling. Vasu Mama let out a mild  laugh and whispered something in his Aunty’s ear. Smiling, Aunty extended her hand at me expectantly.

Awkwardly, I held out my hand and gave her the bunch of flowers. I couldnt even call it a bouquet anymore. To my surprise, Aunty immediately replaced the bouquet on the table and placed my flowers instead. ‘Here you go! This is, by far, the most beautiful bouquet I have ever received and it will be here so I can see them everyday until I leave.’ His words made me both happy and proud. Happy that I was atleast able to gift Vasu Mama a moment of happiness and proud to have known such a great man.